


Recipe

by GretchenSinister



Series: GretchenSinister's 12 Days of Blacksand [4]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Lists, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: DAY 5 - A Goblet Full Of EggnogIn which Gretchen does a lot of wikipedia research on spices.Pitch is supposed to make eggnog (to bring to a party, I guess?). This…probably won’t be what you’re expecting.
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: GretchenSinister's 12 Days of Blacksand [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662955
Kudos: 3
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	Recipe

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 12/18/2013.

Eggnog:

Egg yolks

Sugar

Milk

Cloves

Cinnamon

Cream

Nutmeg

Vanilla

Rum

* * *

“Why do I have to be the one to make the eggnog?” Pitch muttered to himself, peering narrowly at the hastily-scrawled recipe.

1\. Everything gold reminds me of you, though the similarity is usually but fleeting. The metal itself is cold and unyielding, which you are not; the sun pains me with its heat, which you do not; even honey is unlike you, for it is pure sweetness, which you are not. These yolks come close: nourishing, the base for indulgence, round, and most likely very bad for me if I have too many. But they are potential, and you a fully formed, so again the similarity flees.

2\. I say you are not pure sweetness, but only because if your sweetness were pure, I doubt I would have been given the opportunities that have allowed me to comment on the taste. You’ve let a little trickle of black molasses drip onto your spun-sugar heart, haven’t you? I never knew I would be a connoisseur of such gradations of sweetness before you let my black tongue slip into your mouth, seeming-hotter than molten sugar then. Shockingly, my only injury was a permanent craving for that same taste again.

3\. Have I ever told you that sometimes I wake up before you on cool nights? You are more comfortable in your skin than I am when the nights start to grow longer (at first I was going to write my surprise, but, darling, your love of your own nakedness and long nights is something I cannot say I am not joyously familiar with). As I wrap the covers around myself and you sprawl, I have now and then brushed my dusky fingers across the planes of your skin, smooth and cool and washed pale in the moonlight until it looks like a bowl of milk left out for helpful fairies (though only a goblin comes to drink).

4\. Pleasant spice or powerful medicine? I am glad we follow no mortal remedies, for you warm me and heal me more than any cloves could, and I do not wish to take you in such sparing amounts.

5\. Shall we use the cinnamon for simple consumption, dear? Or shall we bring back the days of old, when it scented the sheets of lovers’ beds, when it made fragrant the robes of kings, when it served as an offering to the gods? I would offer it to you in that latter way, though hoping for a chance to savor it as the foremost, to discover how the spice mixes with the already heady aroma of you.

6\. Cream is what follows on the list I hold in my hand; cream, which, after all I have written thus far, brings no thoughts to mind that do not make my face flame and my breath catch. My most innocent thoughts clamor of the creaminess of the insides of your thighs. My least innocent thoughts present to me the decadent, helpless beauty of your face as you come into my mouth and I greedily drink my fill of you; the bell-like moans I’ve drawn from you as you ride me through your ecstasy, painting my chest and stomach with spatters of white; the shameless shivers that shimmer in counterpoint to your heaving breaths when on hands and knees you press back against me, wanting more than you should, and cover my hand with hot thick come that I will lick up as shamelessly as you tremble, coming into you in homage of your bitterness, not sweetness, this time; and the evidence I’ve seen of your ardor on my black sheets, those mornings after those nights when you’ve thrown my legs over your shoulders and filled me again and again till I was used and sated and my throat was sore from crying your praises.

7\. Another spice appears now. Once it was rare enough for wars to be fought over it, still it is considered to be a source of visions and euphoria. I am glad you are not generally known among warmongers. I worry that the amount of blood I would spill to keep you would stagger you.

8\. We face each other, kiss each other on the mouth, hands around waists, on shoulders, move gentle with each other. Do you remember how nervous I was when I suggested this? I was afraid you would laugh at me, reject the idea outright—your demon lover offering you something so common. But your kisses never faltered, and of course I should have known—making love with you is never common. When I curl around you afterwards, sometimes I like to think that we are paying tribute to Princess Xanat and her forbidden lover, from whose blood the vanilla orchid grew.

9\. Oh, here at the end, what can I say? Let’s get drunk and clumsy, lover. Let’s laugh at what our bodies do. I’ll kiss you on the nose, and you’ll kiss me on the chin. Let’s fumble our way to glory and fall asleep with open smiles. Let’s wake up feeling awful, and hide under the blankets all day. Let’s drowse with fingertips always somewhere on the other—elbow, ear, hip. There’ll be time for waking with the night.

* * *

Sandy’s eyes moved over the paper, smile and blush growing on his face, an entry near the end causing him to bring one of his little hands to cover his mouth. _This is, ah, wonderful, Pitch_ , he signed. _But where’s the eggnog?_

Pitch sighed. “You know I’m rubbish at cooking, Sandy. It curdled. I had to throw it out.”

_Well,_ signed Sandy, _I suppose the writing’s better anyway._

**Author's Note:**

> Tags and Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> #thank goodness no one was sitting next to me on the train as I wrote this#so...ah...Pitch really likes making Sandy come#one of his favorite things to do really#also apparently Sandy and casual nudity are linked in my mind#oh what revelations such a simple prompt brings
> 
> emeraldembers reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Yo There are not words For how hot My face went Reading this I combusted THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED AT ALL AND THE SURPRISE WAS MORE DELICIOUS THAN NAKED SANDY OKAY
> 
> HNNNGH Tags: omfg SO HOT
> 
> random-sedan reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> *screaming quietly* It’s far too early in the morning for me to be swooning over this. But god is this gorgeous. Damn good. Damn. Tagged: I wish I had something even remotely articulate to say XD other than abnnbndsjdjnhdsjks NNNNGHHHHH
> 
> whentheoceanmetsky said: omfg pitch how are you such a nerd EVEN WHEN YOU’RE BEING SEXY YOU’RE A DORK. And Sandy’s flippant little lines at the end just lmao….


End file.
